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No Haven

No Haven

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A continuation of the Haven (Live Together or Die Alone) storyline, focusing on the development of characters in a zombie apocalypse after the fall of their homes.

913 readers have visited No Haven since Messiah created it.

SkullsandSlippers, Faith Fanon, and Black Hoodie are listed as curators, giving them final say over any conflict & the ability to clean up mistakes.

Copyright: The creator of this roleplay has attributed some or all of its content to the following sources:

http://www.roleplaygateway.com/roleplay/live-together-or-die-alone

Introduction

You're out in the open now, working with people that you're not sure you can trust. A horde rolled through the Lake District and left nothing but destruction in their wake, all but obliterating the camps at Haven and Eden Valley, resulting in many deaths. But now, despite your wariness of the people you don't know, you have no choice. Your only other option is to go out on your own, and that's virtually suicide. No, this is what you must do to survive. And survival is the name of the game.

The question is, what will you do to survive?

The Story So Far


In August of 2013, the world was hit with a series of viral outbreaks. While the virus was highly infectious and fatal as well, the biggest problem was that people who were infected and died would reanimate and attack the living. The only known way to stop someone from reanimating once they were infected was to cause severe trauma to the brain. The situation quickly deteriorated, as governments were initially slow to deal with the outbreak, thinking it was something smaller than it would be. By the time the governments realized they needed to take serious action, it was already too late; the living dead were starting to outnumber the living. Those that were not killed by the walking dead or their fellow humans fled and tried to take refuge away from the cities. The United Kingdom was one of the countries hit especially hard.

Up north, away from the hustle and bustle of London is an area known as the Lake District - which was named so for a reason - was an area, in the weeks following the initial outbreak, that had seen some survivor activity. First, the Rands and the Caravanners. The Rands took up refuge in Upton Abbey, which was owned before the outbreak by an older man in a wheelchair named Kenneth Rand. It was he who led The Rands. The Caravanners set up camp in an area that had come to be called Eden Valley. A large group, they relied on their numbers to protect their insecure homesite. These people were led by a woman named Jane Meadows. After The Rands and The Caravanners, two survivors who were traveling together - Jonathan Monroe and Callie Winters - came upon a farmhouse in the middle of the Lake District. Gathering more supplies and like-minded survivors, they set up the site that would be come to be known as Haven.

It was only a matter of time until these groups came into contact with each other, and with tensions already high, conflict seemed to be inevitable. Haven and its Scavengers (or Scavs) would often find themselves clashing with Eden Valley and their Runners. For the most part, however, The Rands seemed to stick to themselves, save for a group within Upton that was dedicated solely to gathering supplies for the abbey. It was this group, it seemed, that was the source of most of the issues between Haven and Eden Valley.

All sides suffered losses, including, for Haven, one of the founding members. Ultimately, it was The Rands and Upton Abbey that suffered the greatest, first losing the man in charge, inciting chaos among the group and eventually leading to many deaths and an attack from the reanimated dead. It wasn't until a group of Scavs, looking for one of their own, and hoping to solve the situation at the abbey, were forced to burn it down to keep the dead from continuing on. The Rands, except for a few survivors, were gone. The remaining survivors ended up taking shelter at Haven, including Kenneth Rand's grandson, Eric.

For a little while after that, Haven and Eden Valley remained at an uneasy peace, though both sides were wary of the other, and would regularly do their best to avoid each other, but would work together when mutual gain was in the books. Unfortunately, nothing gold can stay, but it wasn't conflict between the two groups that all but destroyed them. This time, it was a horde - a massive horde that rolled right through the Lake District and tore right through both camps. Eden Valley and its Caravanners suffered greater losses because of the fragility of their camp, but Haven was not without its own losses.

Just a few survivors remain, some from Upton, some from Haven, and some from Eden Valley. Without a home, they are now on a search for survival...

Important Events


August 2013: Viral outbreaks strike, Rands and Caravanners founded

September 2013: Haven founded

October 2013: Death of William Rand, Kenneth Rand's son

November 2013: Deaths of Jonathan Monroe, Kenneth Rand, Tilo King, Richard Brand, and destruction of Upton Abbey

December 2013: Death of Erin Hooper

March 2014: Bandit attack on Haven, death of Mark Lawson

June 2014: Deaths of Kiera Trennan and Rishi Sharma

September 2014: Large horde attacks the Lake District, wiping out Haven and Eden Valley. Benjamin Kinney, Delaney Byron, Shinji Yamada, Eric Rand, and Alison Hartford only known survivors from either camp. Start of the roleplay.

Character Sheet


First and foremost, realism is of the utmost importance. If your character is deemed to be too overpowered, particularly in one skillset, then it won't be accepted. But, don't worry! If your character sheet is not accepted, it's not the end of the world, and if that's the case, someone will let you know what you can do to make it acceptable. Furthermore, I want to stress that we'll be focusing more on developing characters through your writing, and I don't want you to feel like you're stuck with your character and how they are. So, without further adieu, I give you the character sheet.

Name:
Gender:
Age:
Date of Birth: (List it as the name of the month, day, and then year to avoid confusion. So, for example... February 19th, 1992).
Place of Birth: (The roleplay takes place in the UK, so characters are more likely to be natives. By no means does this mean restrict yourself , just keep it in mind)
Approximate Height:
Approximate Weight: (Current weight preferred, but you can include their weight before the apocalypse as well.)
Build: (Current build preferred, but you can include their build before the apocalypse as well.)
Hair Color:
Eye Color:
Pre-Outbreak: (What was your character doing before the apocalypse? What were they like? Who was their family? Did they have a significant other? Children? All questions to consider when writing up this part.)
Post-Outbreak: (Where were they when the outbreak hit? How did they get out? How have they been surviving since then? Remember, it's been over a year since the outbreak hit, now.)
Personality: (You don't have to be too detailed here. Just some basics. There will be room for development here.)
Skills: (After a year, your character should be relatively skilled at surviving, whether it be through fighting or sneaking or maybe even using other people to help them survive and keep them alive, that's up to you! Don't feel too pressed into this. Just a few sentences describing what they're good at, since skills will develop and change over time.)
Equipment: (Weapons, supplies, etc. Remember that this is the UK, so guns are much less common than they are in the U.S. Though, they will not be disallowed, just keep that in mind.)
Other Important Information: (Distinguishing characteristics? Are they in a relationship? Do they have an accent? Just some examples of what you can include. Anything that's important but wasn't covered above.)

Toggle Rules

This is the part that nobody likes, but it's important, so I'll just get down to it.

Not really a rule, but first and foremost, please check out the OOC and say hello and talk with your fellow roleplayers. If you don't and you submit a character, I will be much less inclined to accept it. That's just how it goes. Communication is important and I've been in roleplays (including Haven/Live Together, the RP that this one is continuing from) where people would not contact their fellow writers and it got incredibly frustrating for pretty much everybody involved.

1. Be respectful! This means respect yourself, your fellow roleplayers, and the rules.

2. No godmoding, metagaming, or powerplaying. They're all very similar, but they all have some important differences.

Godmoding - Making your character indestructible or untouchable.

Metagaming - Using OOC knowledge to benefit your character(s) ICly.

Powerplaying - Controlling another player's character, however there is an exception that is tolerable.
While writing with others on Haven (particularly Faith and Rann), we would write for the other character(s) that were also in the roleplay, but we wouldn't do any kind of extensive writing, and we would run what we'd written past the other writer. This kind is acceptable, but if you do, just be sure that your fellow writer(s) are okay with what you've been writing.

3. There isn't going to be a minimum word length. Quality over quantity should be stressed. But, responses should be literate and descriptive - enough so that there's plenty for the person(s) replying to you to respond. One-liners should be avoided.

4. Following with the quality over quantity, there should be some level of literacy. At the very least, capitalization and punctuation (periods, question marks, etc. I'm not a big stickler for correct comma placement) should be observed. Spelling isn't going to be much of an issue either, just as long as your fellow roleplayers know what you're trying to say.

5. Mature themes are acceptable, including (but not limited to) descriptions of violence and gore, language, and other adult themes. However, you must abide by the site's rules.

6. Try to respond in a reasonable amount of time. Different people take different times to respond, but if you disappear without saying anything to anybody and you're holding up the plot, well... that isn't so good. If you are going to be gone, please let someone know, either through PM, or through the OOC thread.

7. For now, stick with one character, unless he/she is to be classified as an NPC and able to be played by anyone. We can decided at a later point whether or not we would like to play more than one character. If your character dies, you can create a new one for submission.

8. You are free to play the character you had before, or you can create a new one.

9. Have fun! If you have any suggestions, questions, or concerns, please don't hesitate to bring them up!

The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 4 authors

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shinji Yamada Character Portrait: Delaney Byron
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Laney stared dumbly at the dark blood that thickly coated her arms, chest and hair. The truck jolted and the engine backfired and she dimly heard Shinji swear incomprehensibly as he struggled to keep the battered vehicle on the road. Lying on the flatbed of the back of the truck, she held up a hand and watched the ichor drip from her fingers. The fingers she'd broken that night she'd run into a pack of the dead on just her third mission. It must have been, what, a year ago now? Maybe a little less. It had been colder than it was now. Through heavy-lidded eyes, she looked back at Haven as it disappeared behind the crest of a hill. The wind shifted, and over the scream of the truck's damaged engine, Laney could hear the howls and moans of the horde. There was no smoke, no fire, no explosion or gunfire, not like there had been when Upton Manor fell. Nothing to mark the destruction of their home and the loss of so many friends - part of their lives - except the grating groans of the hellish, relentless undead. She'd made Shinji delay as long as possible, hoping to catch another glimpse of Eric and his mother, or of Ben, before yet another pack of the dead had forced the truck's departure. There had been hundreds, if not thousands, and tears prickled her eyes as she realised the chances of seeing any of Haven's inhabitants again were slim.

'Shoulda lef' me,' her friend mumbled in her lap, interrupting her train of thought. Laney dropped her gaze to her, taking in the fading light in her eyes, the greying skin, the bite wounds that blotted her ravaged arm like obscene, fleshy roses.

'Callie, no,' Laney breathed, the futility, the hopelessness of their situation driven home by Callie's fatalistic words. Callie's breath was coming in short, ragged pants, as if inhaling was painful and brief intakes were all she could manage. Blood ran down from a cut hidden in her hair, and pooled in her eye. Callie blinked feebly and Laney brushed gently at the blood; her caked hands did little more than smear it slickly across Callie's cheek.

'It's... no good.' Callie's arm flopped uselessly as she tried to gesture, and a fresh gout of blood swelled in one of her wounds. Laney shook her head uselessly. A dislodged tear slid down her face and landed on Callie's forehead. She had nothing to say. They had both seen enough to know. Speech was pointless. The woman who had brought Laney in when she was almost dead on her feet in the panicked, chaotic weeks after the outbreak, who have given her food and shelter and the skills to survive, was going to die. They both knew what had to happen next. Perhaps numbed by shock and blood loss, Callie simply nodded at Laney.

Moments ticked by as Laney recalled Callie's kindness. She'd shielded Laney from the worst of Munroe's frustrated outbursts, encouraged her to express herself - after all, what was the point of surviving if you didn't live? Callie's determination had made Haven, and she'd shown the same bravery to overcome Munroe's death and keep Haven alive. She'd stepped aside selflessly as new arrivals such as Laney and Ben took over more active roles in running Haven.

'Laney... you gotta,' Callie winced as her weakened body shivered. Laney closed her eyes and swallowed, recalling the last person who'd been bitten on Haven. All things considered, she'd thought she would have been able to end that life easily, but as she'd stared down the barrel of a gun into those red-rimmed, pleading eyes, she'd been unable to pull the trigger. Even though she'd been doomed as the infection raced through her bloodstream, Kiera had still been full of humanity. A monster couldn't beg like that at the prospect of her destruction. A dead person couldn't cry like that, as if her very soul was being ripped from her body. In the end Ben had taken the gun from Laney's faltering hand. Kiera's wailing had halted, as if in hope of mercy, and Laney had turned away before the gunshot rang out. Ben's old coldness, the silence and the blank look that hid boiling inner rage, had returned for days, and for days they'd avoided each other, Ben going out on missions that began before dawn and ended as night fell, Laney busying herself in unfamiliar tasks around Haven - kitchen duties, chopping wood, working the gradually expanding graveyard, where she tend the new memorials as diligently as she did the old.

The truck lurched as a loud grinding noise emanated from the engine, and it shuddered to a stop. Silence rolled in around the tiny group, punctuated only by hissing, escaping steam from the engine and Callie's rasping breath. They were far enough from Haven now that the horde could not be heard. They could be confident, too, that every creature for miles around had been drawn into the horde; they were safe for now. Nonetheless, they were still miles from the designated fallback house - a stone barn high in the hills where a group of Haven's enemies had once ambushed Laney and a mixed group from Haven and Eden Valley - and there was no way Callie could walk. The blood loss alone would ensure that, even if her legs hadn't been torn and savaged.

'Laney, Callie, we go now,' Shinji said, appearing at the tailgate of the truck. He took in the bloody scene, the teartracks streaking Laney's face, the wreck of Callie's body. 'You have gun,' he said gently, then returned to the cab of the truck. Shinji had had to kill his own wife, Laney recalled. Since then, and his arrival at Haven, the Japanese former tourist had had a fatalistic air to life and death; he contributed as much as any to Haven, and was kind and friendly to all the other inhabitants, but the deaths Haven had suffered appeared not to touch him. Death was to be expected, he'd explained once in halting English, and the dead were as lucky to be dead as the living were to be alive.

Laney leaned across Callie and picked up the pistol from between her feet. Callie nodded weakly, too weak now to talk. She knew she'd fired every bullet from the back of the flatbed truck as the pack had descended on Callie. She shuddered as she closed her eyes and once again saw her friend burst from the gate of Haven, running in determined silence, her injured leg buckling under her, as the truck coughed into life. Laney had screamed at Shinji to reverse as 10 or 12 of the dead had closed on the limping Callie. Her first shot had taken one of the creatures in the throat and knocked it back into two others, and hope had leaped inside Laney as she fired off two more shots that both struck foreheads and dropped creatures. But her next three shots were wild as Shinji reversed the truck, and Callie finally cried out as she was grabbed from behind. She struggled to stay upright and keep moving even as the weight on her back increased and teeth ripped lumps of flesh from her limbs. She was borne to the ground even as Laney leaped from the truck and executed the creatures at point-blank range. Two of them growled and champed at Callie as the hammer of Laney's handgun clicked on the empty chamber. She'd dispatched them with Hoppy's cleaver even as they'd raised their heads to her.

She craned her neck to look at Shinji as he began to trudge uphill towards the fallback house. He'd used Hoppy's cleaver to cut down the creature his wife had become. Maybe... No, Laney told herself. She knew she had to do this herself. This wasn't Kaiko or Kiera, or even Toby, the long-dead Scav who'd been bitten because of their own inexperience and who had submitted to her fate so stoically. No, Callie was her friend. Callie was Haven's mother. She couldn't duck this responsibility.

She unsheathed her machete. Callie's lips moved soundlessly, by now too weak even to speak, as she turned her head, presenting the softest part of the temple to Laney's blade. Laney rested the point on her temple, briefly mesmerised by the indent it made against her friend's skin. She gritted her teeth, looked up to the sky, and lunged down with all her strength.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eric Rand Character Portrait: Benjamin Kinney
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#, as written by Messiah
"Eric!"

Ben stood outside the farmhouse that had once been the command center of Haven. Once the center of activity for the Scavengers and the rest of those residing in Haven, now it was a hub of undead activity. After frantically asking Laney about the boy and telling her to get everyone she could find, he went inside the farmhouse, just in time to see Carter, who had helped take some leadership, put the barrel of her pistol to her temple and pull the trigger. Her choice to go out her own way, rather than end up bitten or devoured. She just might end up getting devoured anyway, but at least that way, she wouldn't be in pain during the entire thing.

His raised voice attracted the attention of some of the nearby dead, who converged on him, but Ben was already five steps ahead of them. He darted through the crowd, keeping his arms close to his body, and occasionally lowering his shoulder to knock over any zed that got directly into his path. At a clearing, or what could be best called a clearing, between packs of the things, he stopped and braved a look around. To his left, he saw Dom, fighting the approaching dead with all that he could. Ben could try and help him, but he knew that Dom's chances of survival were low, and running over there might just end up getting himself trapped and killed as well; he was no good to anybody dead. Up ahead was a barn. He noticed that the door was open, just a crack. It wasn't much, but he knew that those doors were usually kept closed and barred. Unless there was someone inside. So, he bolted for the barn before the next roaming pack could catch up with him.

The door swung open as he pushed his weight against it. Immediately, he saw Elizabeth inside, holding her young son with three walkers approaching them from her front. Ben's entrance caught Elizabeth's attention and she wheeled to look at him, only for one of the walkers to sink its teeth into the side of her neck and rip out a chunk of flesh. Blood poured, she gasped, not even having enough thought to scream. In the shock of the attack, she lost her hold on Eric and the boy fell to the ground. One of the two remaining walkers averted its attention from the fallen Elizabeth and brought it on the boy. He scrambled up and raced to the corner of the barn with the walker not far behind him.

Ben saw red.

With an audible growl, Ben marched towards the corner of the barn where Eric was standing and the walker was nearing. He struck out at its knee with a strong kick and sent it toppling to the ground, no longer having a stable leg to stand on. But, that didn't stop it. Except now, it was trying to get at Ben instead of Eric, which is exactly what he'd wanted. In a matter of moments, the attack on Eric was over, the walker's head nothing but a mass of pulp as a result of several heavy stomps on its skull. Ben then turned his attention to Elizabeth again, where the two remaining zeds were tearing into her. She could barely manage a whimper now as they tore pieces of flesh from her

Drawing his hatchet, he headed towards them, lowering his shoulder against one to send it sprawling. In a quick motion, he swung his hatchet at the other, embedding the blade of the weapon into the top of its skull. It fell onto Elizabeth's barely-moving body. Ben then stepped towards the last remaining walker as it stood back up again. Another quick motion from his arm and the hatchet found its way into the walker's temple, sending the body toppling to the side and onto the ground, motionless. He turned back around to see Eric still standing in the corner, staring at the bloody form of his mother, and tears falling from his eyes. Mercifully, the commotion inside the barn hadn't attracted any more attention. At least not yet.

Ben lowered his weapon and put it back away as he approached Eric and knelt down in front of the boy, "Eric, I want you to turn around. I don't want you to see this."

Eric looked to the older male's face, his eyes giving away his confusion.

"Please."

Without a word, Eric nodded and turned around to face the corner of the barn. Ben stood up again and approached Elizabeth, who he could see was breathing, but only barely. He grabbed the dead walker that was lying on top of her and pulled it off by the shoulder. What was before him was a grisly scene. After tearing out part of her neck, they had brought her down and tore a hole in her abdoment, and had begun pulling out her insides, so much that some of them were on the outside now. It was enough to make Ben want to throw up, but he managed to keep his composure, if only for the fact that his stomach didn't have much in it at the moment anyway. Weakly, Elizabeth reached an arm up and Ben knelt down again, beside her this time. Her hand found its way to his arm. He could tell that she was trying to grip, but she hadn't the strength for it. When he looked at her face, he could see that she was doing her damnedest to keep her eyes open, but wasn't having much success.

"I'm sorry," Ben finally managed, quietly. It looked as if she had shaken her head, but that may have just been her head falling to the side. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Ben spoke again, "I'll do everything I can to keep your son safe. I promise."

A faint smile seemed to cross her face as she looked at him for the final time. Then her eyes closed, her arm fell, and her breathing went still. But Ben remained there at her side for a moment or two longer before finally raising his weapon and putting the woman down to keep her from turning, as gently as he could. When he stood back up and looked back to Eric, he could see the boy still with his back to the scene, but he was peeking, Ben could tell.

Ben approached him again, knelt down, and spoke.

"Eric, we have to go. It's not safe here anymore. I'm going to take you somewhere away from here where we can be safe for a little while, okay?"

Having turned around, the boy nodded. Ben opened his arms and Eric hugged him and buried his face into the man's shoulder. Ben stood up, still holding Eric.

"I want you to listen to me very carefully now. Are you listening?" Ben asked.

"Yes."

"I need you to hold onto me very tightly, arms and legs both. I also need you to be as quiet as you can, no matter how scary things get. Trust me, I know how scary those things are, but noise attracts them. Do you think you can do that?" In response, Eric nodded against his shoulder and squeezed his arms and legs tightly, just like Ben had told him.

With a deep breath, Ben stepped back outside and into the chaos. Immediately, a pack of the dead turned their attention to him and Eric, and he bolted. As he ran, he could only afford a brief glance to where Dom had been fighting just minutes before, but the man was no longer there. Ben could only assume the worst.

His first stop was to see whether or not the truck they had was still there. Quietly, he swore to himself when he discovered that it wasn't, but that meant someone had gotten it and gotten away. Maybe it was Laney. He could only hope. But, that also meant that he would have to go the miles to the safehouse on foot, carrying a nearly 50 pound child, in addition the backpack he had with him.

"Change of plans," he said, partly to himself, but mostly to Eric, "I'm going to have to carry you there on foot. The truck's gone."

All around him now, zeds were converging, taking advantage of the time he was stopped. They moaned and snarled and lumbered at him, but there was room enough for him to get through, out of reach of any of the dead. There may have been a lot of them, but numbers weren't everything. They were smarter than the dead. All of them were. But, the trek wasn't going to be easy.

True to what Ben had asked him to do, Eric remained quiet, but he could feel the boy shaking in his arms. Ben knew how scared he must have been, but he was a brave boy; living around the people of Haven would definitely do that to someone.

On their way, the late afternoon turned into evening, and then evening into night. It was starting to get colder and darker earlier. The darkness kept him from seeing any roamers as well as he would have liked, but his ears were always alert for the telltale sounds of the dead. With Eric, he could only do a limited amount of fighting, to the point that just running from them was the best option. If he put the boy down to fight, Ben might lose him, or the boy might run off or get attacked and Ben wouldn't be able to do much about it.

And the trek was perilous. He could hear sounds of the dead, and was always afraid that they were right on his heels, so he continued to press on, no matter how much his legs and his arms protested. As he got further and further from Haven, the sounds of pursuing dead from behind him got steadily quieter. The fire in his extremities started to wear on him and his pace began to slow. At times, the urge to allow himself to falter and go to the ground was strong, but he wouldn't let that happen. He had to keep pumping his legs, if not for himself, then for the Rand boy that he carried, and for the slim hope that he might get to see somebody, anybody from Haven again. Keep pumping. That's all.

He stopped when he noticed a large object in front of him. The only thing that kept him from running into it was, at the last second, he saw that the form of the object was different than the night and the ground before him. With one hand, he reached out and felt along the cool metal. His eyes refocused and he saw that it was the truck he'd searched for just hours earlier, but it looked abandoned.

His heart nearly stopped as he saw something in the back of the truck that looked like a body, but he couldn't make out who it might be; he had almost missed that there even was a body there.

Quietly, he dared to call out, "Laney! Somebody?" He stood stock still and silent, waiting for any kind of response, but he heard nothing. If he was better at tracking, he might be able to see how many were inside and where they went, but he wasn't. At least his legs were thankful for the respite; his arms continued to complain and pain him. Briefly, he allowed himself to stop there at the truck to rest. It was only the inevitable sound of the encroaching dead that forced him out of it and got him moving again. The house couldn't be too far now, and he would just have to push through the pain for the last leg of the trek.

Finally, with barely a moon to light his way, he saw the form of what was no doubt a house. This was it. It was the only one within miles. On the brink of collapse, he approached, staggering up to the door with Eric in one arm and the other held up in preparation to knock.

He hesitated...

And then, finally, he knocked, hoping against hope that someone he knew and trusted would be there to greet him.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shannon Finley
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A gentle breeze wove its way through Shannon’s hair. It was cool, but without the crisp bite that he was accustomed to. Relief might be a word to use to describe the feeling it gave to him, were it not for the fact that he had been walking since before sunrise. He knew the trek would be a long one regardless of whether or not he encountered anybody, or anything, that had less than desirable intentions, but it was taking its toll on him. It wasn’t so much that he was walking instead of riding, but that he had to find his own food, cover up his tracks, feed his horses, keep a lookout for trouble, set up camp, cook his food…it was a miracle he made it as far as he did with as little trouble as he did. In order to make up time, he’d decided to walk without a break, taking occasional sips from his water bottles and stuffing his face with handfuls of nuts or jerky. Huffing in disapproval, Birch shook her head and pulled slightly on her reins. Apparently Shannon wasn’t the only one who was feeling more than a little deserving of some rest.

Sally and Birch, his two horses, were primarily there to carry his gear and to keep Shannon company. The Clydesdale horses were strong and tough; engineered through generations of breeding to be capable workers, Shannon saw much of himself in his two companions. Like them, he was raised to be tough. If you weren’t, then you’d be food for the wolves. In current times, it was more likely to be literal than figurative, and that hammered the point home even more.

“Looks like I’ve won that bet Sally. Birch gave in first.” Shannon whispered in a gravelly voice. Sally stomped her hoof in disapproval, cocking her head back in defeat. “That’ll be another catch fer ya ta hold come tomorrow.” They were between hills, with small copses of trees littering the area. Shannon threw Birch’s and Sally’s reins around the branches of a young sapling and quickly fetched them a couple of apples. “I’ll be back.” Seemingly indifferent to his words, the horses continued to munch on their apples as Shannon made his way towards the far hill.

He walked with a cautious air about him, as if there was danger lurking around every bush. His strides were long and quiet, his head swivelling about as he made his way to the crest of the hill. Once he was close enough, he knelt down, and after a quick glance behind him, laid himself on his stomach. Crawling forward army style, his hand left the hammer he used mostly as a walking stick, and came upon the binoculars strapped around his neck. They were likely one of his most valuable pieces of equipment, allowing him to see further than the wind could carry a scent. They were also likely to be his most expensive piece, even more so than his bow. With the pristine clarity they provided, Shannon surveyed the expanse before him.

Like the hill before, there was nothing of immediate interest. Shannon breathed deeply, thanking whatever pantheon of deities was available for the break in trouble. Grabbing the hammer, he stood, brushed himself off, and made his way back to his companions. It had been a hellish couple of weeks, having to deal with a pair of hooligans that were harassing him. He wasn’t sure where or when they had begun to follow him, but they had caused Shannon nothing but grief. They scared away all the game that Shannon was attempting to stalk, attracted unwanted attention from the rotters that Shannon often had to deal with himself, and even managed to steal some of his supplies when he wasn’t looking. Why they didn’t just take his horses, or kill him in his sleep was a thought that was constantly on his mind. Maybe they were just trying to piggy-back their way to safer places. Or maybe it was just easier for them to let the hunter do all the heavy lifting. Whatever their intentions were, it didn’t matter anymore. Shannon managed to use a large horde of rotters to outmanoeuvre the parasites. It was one of the few times that Shannon had ridden atop Birch, pushing her and her sister to their limits as they galloped through the masses of dead flesh. Ever since then, there’ve been no signs of their nuisance.

“She’s all clear girls.” Shannon mentioned to the horses as he unstrapped his rucksack. Letting it fall to the ground, he took the opportunity to find a few minutes of rest as he sat down at the base of a thick tree trunk. The sun was high in the sky, which meant he had another six hours before he needed to set up camp for the night. He took a large swig of water, and stared up at the sky. The trip he took up north was only supposed to have lasted a couple of months. When he came back down, it felt like the trip had taken a permanent extension. What was two months spanned into twelve, the conveniences of modern society stripped away. The scent of death carried a long ways, and there weren’t many days that Shannon hadn’t caught a whiff of its sickly aroma. For the moment, he was free of it, and as he took in the bottle of water and the fresh air, he closed his eyes. They remained closed for several minutes, as he let his mind wander.

Refreshing.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, wondering if the world had changed in the small amount of time his eyelids had taken the world away. It was a fleeting moment, but he revelled in its reprieve from the toils of the day. Once again he would don his pack and be on his way. It would be many hours before they would stop, making camp in a rocky hilltop. Once they each had their meals, and Shannon had set up a noise trap around their perimeter, they each laid down to rest. It wasn’t long before he was abruptly woken to the sounds of Birch and Sally whining and stomping their feet. They noticed something while he was asleep. They only ever acted that way when the undead were afoot. Shannon shot up off his cot and grabbed onto his binoculars, quickly scanning the landscape. The sun hadn’t quite set, the remaining light giving his binoculars enough clarity as though he were looking upon a landscape bathed in midday sun. It only took him a few seconds to figure out where they were. There were hundreds of them, if not more. The horde of zombies were quite a distance away from where the three of them were, but they were downwind. They weren’t in any immediate danger, but it would be foolish to stick around, especially if even one of the damn rotters spotted the embers from his fire. Shannon stowed his binoculars and went about wrapping up his camp, trying to keep Birch and Sally calm in the process.

It was going to be a long day yet, that was for sure.

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Character Portrait: Allison Hartford
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Run!

Her mind screamed it over and over again. It forced her legs to work and propel her forward. It forced her lungs to heave like a set of bellows leaving them burning with exertion. It forced her not to look back, not to look over her shoulder at the place that had been her home.

The noises, the screams and gunshots were sickening. The shots were few and far between but the screams were plentiful. There was no time to help and there was nothing she could do but run.

Allison ran into the trees, into the darkness. She didn’t have a flashlight. She was lucky to get out at all. Her eyes were on the path ahead as she watched for trees, bushes or anything that might get in her way.

Run!

It wasn’t something she was good at. She had been trying over the last little bit to improve her cardiovascular ability and her speed. Running, sprinting these had never been things she had been good at even as a child. She wasn’t the slowest but she was certainly never one of the fastest. As an intern on the floor it didn’t seem to matter. She could last a double shift no problem fueled by far too much coffee. There was no need to be the speediest when you were doing rounds. Sure occasionally there was the need to get to a bed fast but even then she had been content to let someone else get there first and she offered the long term help. She could solve the hard problems, diagnosis the difficult case and keep her head in the biggest emergencies. Allison had never needed to run.

Now her very survival relied on it.

Her legs burned. Her chest stung with each breath.

Something contacted her leg and she fell hard to the ground. Allison felt the impact of the earth and her body, jarring her to her bones. Instinct kicked in and she scrambled to her feet. No time to assess damage now.

Run! Keep running!

And she did. Allison ran until her legs gave out and she collapsed to her knees. She ran until the screams of the others were far behind and could no longer be heard.

It was dark. The only sound was her gasping breath. On her knees, hands in the dirt, Allison struggled to catch her breath. Each inhale was like daggers in her chest. She lifted her head, looking around through watery eyes.

Nothing. Nothing but trees. No sound of anything. She was sure that any and all of the undead in the area were tearing apart those she had lived with.

Allison let the sobs come. Fingers dug into the dirt as she cried. She was terrified and she had just lost the only place that was even remotely safe and the people who she had come to rely on.

Her sobs continued for a time and didn’t help her slow her breathing at all. Eventually the bawling turned into gagging and eventually it slowed.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been down there on her knees in the dirt but Allison looked up suddenly nervous. It had been drilled into her not to stay in one place in the open for too long.

Stumbling she got to her feet once more.

Hands dirty, arms wrapped around herself Allison began walking. She began to go over the events that led to her fleeing.

Inventory. Like every night she was doing an inventory before bed. She had refilled her supplies, her first aid backpack equipped for just about any emergency.

She had laid down, was looking through a book. Her eyes had grown droopy. Had she fallen asleep?

She wasn’t sure but she was startled by the alarm. She had jumped out of bed, grabbed the backpack and opened the door.

The sight made her gasped. The alarm had been too late. The place had been breached and they were overrun.

It had taken everything in her not to slam the door and hide.

It was too much though. Everywhere she looked people were falling, being torn apart. Everyone it seemed.

She did the only thing she could think of. She pulled the backpack on and ran, not looking back.


The trees gave way to a road. Leery, Allison paused just inside the treeline and looked around. Seeing and hearing nothing she stepped out and onto the deserted road. Where it went she had no idea but she had nothing and no one but at least on an open road she had more space to see what was coming.

Allison was tired. Extremely tired but resting wasn’t an option. Not yet.

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Character Portrait: Eric Rand Character Portrait: Shinji Yamada Character Portrait: Delaney Byron Character Portrait: Benjamin Kinney
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#, as written by Messiah
(Collaboration with Faith Fanon. She did most of the work.)

They reached the stone barn high in the hills as the sun began to dip towards the horizon. They stood panting, looking down the steep incline and finding no pursuers, living or dead. Then Shinji loosened his weapon, lit his torch, and flung open the door. Laney had a brief moment of recollection, the memory of Jake from Eden Valley performing the same movement, only for a pack of the dead to surge forward and overwhelming. A joint party from Haven and Eden Valley had been searching for a mysterious band of hunters, and they'd tracked them down to this spot, with disastrous results. Jake had been devoured alive, and the other Eden Valley representative, Sam, had been shot - her weakened state had caused both her and Toby's deaths. That day, Laney had made what she felt was mistake after mistake.

'It safe, Laney. Come.'

Laney shivered as she followed Shinji into the safehouse. Its stone walls and tiny windows afforded good protection - stopping most noise and light getting out as well as stopping things getting in - but did nothing for its hospitality or comfort. The beam from Shinji's torch lit up the cold, dark interior, revealing boxes of blankets, tinned food, bottled water, a few other supplies, and enough floorspace to sleep 10 people comfortably. There was still ash in the hearth, Laney noted irritably as the weak yellow light flickered across the fireplace. Whoever had been up to check on the safehouse last hadn't performed their duties diligently. The monthly maintenance visits had been Ben's idea, after Laney had suggested the barn as a replacement fallback position when Munroe had blown up the original safehouse last year, and was typical of the competent, self-assured way he'd taken on a leadership mantle in Haven.

Shinji picked up on Laney's grunt of annoyance and stepped towards the fireplace. Laney put a restraining hand on his arm and herself filled a bucket with ash. Grabbing a bottle of water, she went outside and sat on the approach to the safehouse. As she waited and watched, she used the water and ash to scrub Callie's dried, flaking blood from her arms.

The sounds of Shinji tinkering inside the stone barn eventually died away as Laney pondered the fate of the friends she'd woken up with that morning. Stoic, dependable Dom; Alison, the former helicopter pilot who, despite her limp, angrily insisited on going out on missions; the timid Dr Short; Elizabeth Rand and her son Eric who, in the wake of his father's death, had latched onto Ben as some sort of older brother... Ben. Laney swallowed hard as she shucked a thick, grimey mix of ash, blood and water off her arms. She'd last seen him at the door of the farmhouse, calmly but sternly trying to bring order to the defence of Haven. But they'd been caught unawares by the size of the horde. As wave upon wave of the dead hit the walls, the realisation that it was time to flee came only seconds before the perimeter was breached, and all their carefully arranged escape plans had been dashed. She'd run to get the truck and bring it to the back gate, only to find Shinji already there. Callie's failed break for safety had brought a larger pack to them and left the drive away from Haven as the only possible route. Even then, Shinji had had to ram numerous decaying, walking bodies out of the way, no doubt contributing to the truck's eventual breakdown.

The gradually sinking sun filled the valley below with a last blaze of orange light before disappearing behind the hills on the far horizon. As the evening gloom darkened and an autumnal chill fell, Shinji finally broke Laney's reverie.

'We go inside now. We must.'

All part of the plan, Laney remembered as she heaved stiff limbs out of her sitting position. In the dusk, it became impossible to discern between actual movement and the imaginings of a stressed-out, jumpy Scav, never mind between the living and the dead. So they were supposed, according to the plan, to get inside, lock the door, and keep noise and light to a minimum. Late arrivals would knock. That was the plan. Monroe's plan, adapted and finessed for the stone barn by Callie, Ben and Alison. So much for the plan that was supposed to keep them safe in Haven. The only two known Haven survivors sat in deep, uncomfortable silence as Laney pondered the futility of plans.

Hours later, a knock on the door, the agreed the three-knock, two-knock, three-knock pattern, brought them both to their feet. Having spent almost every night next to him in the last 10 months, Laney recognised Ben's breathing before he spoke, before her eyes could pick out his silhouette against the faint moonlight. She threw himself into his arms with a sob.

*

They'd elected not to light the fire, even though previous tests had confirmed the smoke wouldn't be seen against the night sky: somehow, after the trauma that day, even the smallest risk seemed unjustifiable. But, wrapped in two sleeping bags and exhausted by terror, Eric soon dropped into a deep slumber under the watchful eye of the three adults. By the dim light of a single shuttered lamp, they looked from one to the other, none willing to be the first to break the silence and confirm the awful reality of the day's events.

Finally, Ben spoke up, his voice still husky from exertion. 'I passed the truck. Almost ran right into it.'

'It breaks from we hit many of them,' Shinji replied. 'Maybe we can fix?'

'Who's in the back?' Ben asked, ignoring Shinji's question.

'Callie,' Laney replied, biting back a flare of resentment at Ben's terse demands. He was freshly arrived from fleeing the horde; he hadn't had several hours in which to collect his thoughts. 'She was bitten, Ben. Badly. I had to...'

More than a year after the outbreak, there was still no easy way to describe that ultimate act. Toby had spared Laney the painful burden 10 months ago, and Monroe had also taken matters into his own hands when he'd been bitten. She had been doing her best to block out the memory of jabbing a blade through Callie's temple. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

Ben noticed her grief and nodded. The last year had changed them all, but killing the living was the ultimate taboo. He'd killed in anger and he'd killed out of mercy. He knew what his girlfriend was going through.

'We should bury her, Laney,' he said with a gentleness he didn't quite feel. 'And get the truck going again.'

Laney looked up suddenly, her eyes wide in the dim light. 'You want to go out there again? So soon?'

'We can't stay here, Laney. We barely have any supplies. It's not secure. That horde could still come up this way.'

'What if more people come?'

'I saw...' It was Ben's turn to hold back a surge of grief. 'Dom's gone. Elizabeth's gone. Carter... Nobody's left.'

In the heavy silence that followed, Shinji flicked his torch over the small stack of supplies to the toolbox. 'We can fix. I take first watch.'

'I'll take second,' Laney mumbled, in deference to Ben's exhaustion. She hated second watch. Being woken was cruel, and getting back to sleep was difficult.

*

Ben stood up. He was back at Haven, standing right in the middle of it, but it was empty, at least as far as he could tell. There were no zeds and no people. It was just him, alone. He had never seen it like this. There was always something going on, somebody was always out and about, for whatever reason.

Something compelled him from his spot and he wandered, almost aimlessly, to the farmhouse where so much activity amongst the residents of Haven occurred before. Its kitchen was the hub of the little settlement, but it too was empty, strangely enough. What the hell was going on around here?

"Laney!" He called, "Eric! Hoppy!" It all felt natural. There was no click in his brain that told him that Hoppy had died, long months ago. But still, there was no answer, so he went back outside. It was still empty.

"Somebody!" He shouted, his voice echoing over the empty landscape. But, it was no use. He was alone. Stricken, he fell to his knees and looked to the ground beneath him. Quietly, he began to sob.

"What are you crying for?" A familiar voice sounded, a voice he hadn't heard in more than a year. He looked up. It was his brother, Chris. "You're not giving up, are you?" The muscular former Marine offered his hand. Ben took it, his left hand still with all five of its digits. And then, when he was on his feet again, he saw his little sister, Amber, standing just to his brother's side. She was quiet, but she looked at him with that look she got when things weren't going so well; the look that said that everything would turn out okay. It always made him feel better, but not this time.

"It's gone," Ben managed quietly, looking back to Chris, "It's all gone." The buildings all around him suddenly all started to look older and fall apart, as if they hadn't been taken care of in years.

"Not all of it," Chris retorted.

From behind him, Laney approached and laced her fingers in with his. On the other side, Eric had approached and was holding onto his leg. When he looked down to the boy, he noticed that his left hand was missing its pinky finger. And then, behind him, Shinji stood. The only people from Haven he knew were still alive. When he looked back up to his brother and his sister, his heart nearly stopped with who else was standing with them now; everyone from Haven who had died. Callie, Monroe, Tilo, Hoppy, Kiera. They were all there.

"Those people need you. Laney's barely keeping herself together, Eric's just a little boy, and Shinji... He barely knows English. They need you to be strong for them." Chris turned around to look at all of the people that were standing behind him now. "And these people, they wouldn't want you to give up." He turned back to look to Ben. "So, fight. It looks bad, but you still have to fight for what you have left."

It was all too much. Ben stayed silent, but tears welled up in his eyes and started to fall, while he kept his head bowed. When he looked back, his brother and sister were gone, leaving just the dead Haven residents looking back at him, but they said nothing. He extricated himself from Eric and Laney and approached and looked at each of them, but kept his gaze on Tilo and Hoppy longer than the others.

The last thing he saw was Hoppy's grinning face, the one that reminded him so much of his sister.

And then he opened his eyes, tears leaking from his eyes and staining what served as a pillow below. He wiped at his face to clear them away, and then rolled over, expecting Laney to be next to him, but she wasn't. It must have been her turn to keep watch. Gently, he ran his hand over the surface where she'd been resting, and then brought himself to a sitting position. Instead of going back to sleep, he decided he would pay Laney a visit while she kept watch. Maybe he would even take some of her watch time from her, just to give her some more time to rest.

When he had dressed himself, he made his way across the safehouse blindly until his eyes could adjust a little better, and then sought out Laney. She was seated in a chair, holding the rifle they'd all agonised over keeping at the safehouse rather than Haven. It weakened Haven's defences, Ben and Carter had argued, but it meant a better chance for anyone who had to escape. Ben had to concede that Callie and Laney had been right about this one. One more weapon wouldn't have saved Haven today.

"Laney," he whispered, moments before approaching her from behind and putting his arms around her gently, just so as not to startle her.

She looked over her shoulder, only managing a faint smile. "Why are you up? You should be asleep."

"I had a... dream. Couldn't get back to sleep."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Ben said after considering it a moment, "Not right now. I just want to be here, with you."

For a while, it was silent. Laney remained seated and Ben still stood behind her, his arms around her shoulders. It was hard to know what to say, after what had happened that day.

Eventually, Laney spoke, her voice barely more than breath. 'Ben, what the fuck are we going to do?'

He gripped her tighter, but no words came. Beyond fixing the truck, it was hard to look ahead.

'Everything... everything's gone,' she hissed, feeling the panic well up inside again, the defences she'd put up in front of Shinji and Eric crumbling now she was alone with her lover.

A phrase echoed at the margins of Ben's consciousness. 'We still have to fight for what we have left,' he muttered.

Laney reached up and interlaced her fingers through his, a gesture he'd come to know over the last year. She stifled a sob, and he felt, more than saw, her nod her head. Gripping his hand seemed to ease her trembling; she could imagine his strength flowing into her. Suddenly she yawned.

'Hey,' said Ben. 'Your watch must be near done. Why don't you let me take over?'

'Benjamin Kinney,' she grinned, rising and snaking her arms around his neck. 'I do declare you are a gentleman.'

When they'd first met, the sudden emergence of his dominant personality, following his kidnap and torture, had surprised and frustrated Laney. Now, after a year of relying on each other to survive obliteration, she felt she understood him better than she understood herself. Wrapping herself up in his still-warm sleeping back and inhaling his scent, Laney mused that his need to protect, to do right, motivated him more than anything else - more than fear, more than anger - even more than lust, she smiled secretly. There were stoic, masculine role models in his family, she knew. Her eyes played across the back of his alert shoulders until sleep overcame her.

*

The late summer sun of the next morning was incongruous to the mood of the small party that emerged tentatively from the ravine that led to the stone barn. Ever eager to be of use, Shinji foraged ahead as Ben and Laney flanked Eric, who seemed to have buttoned up his emotions, having woken in floods of tears. The adults had exchanged concerned glances; none of them had much experience of children, and had no idea how he was going to react to the loss of his mother, or the dangers and stresses of life on the road as they sought a new home. Ben had filled Laney in on what the boy had witnessed the day Haven had fallen. Currently he had latched onto Ben, dogging his heels like a puppy, pale and frightened, clutching at Ben's hand at every sudden noise and movement. As a result, Laney found herself burdened with most of what they'd taken from the stone barn safehouse. While everyone, even Eric, carried their own sleeping bag, Laney now carried all the meagre food supply, the rifle, a double water supply, the toolbox, and two spare sleeping bags. These last two items she didn't begrudge, though. When she'd initially objected to taking unnecessary weight, Ben reminded her they'd nothing else for Callie's body. The padded coverings would have to serve as a shroud.

As they crested a hill and the abandoned truck hove into sight, Ben turned to Laney. 'Stay here with Eric,' he said softly. I'll take care of this.'

Laney smiled at his kindness, and shook her head determinedly. 'Gotta say goodbye,' she said. 'Gotta put her to bed.'

Ben grinned awkwardly at the joke. It would have been in poor taste for anyone else to make it, but he knew Laney had meant it with love. He helped her out of her gear, handing her back the two spare sleeping bags.

Callie looked smaller than Laney recalled her, now that all the spark had fled her body. She was heavier, too, Laney noticed, as she rolled her into an open sleeping bag, now that dead muscles and tendon no longer assisted movement. Laney shuddered briefly as she smoothed Callie's hair down over the ugly gash she'd inflicted on Callie's temple, but more than anything she felt a calm that contrasted with the panicked grief she'd felt in the back of the truck yesterday. Shinji paused briefly at the foot of the flatbed and, noting that Laney working dutifully to wrap the body, took the toolbox to the other end of the truck. He'd been some sort of low-level engineer back in Japan, they'd ascertained, and he had a talent for mechanical things.

Laney tied off the neck of the second sleeping bag around Callie's feet, which were already wrapped in the first bag, pushed the dead weight further into the flatbed, and waved for Ben and Eric to join them. Ben threw the gear onto the back of the truck, then bundled Eric into the cab.

'Where are we...' Laney began awkwardly. 'We should find somewhere special for her. She deserves it.'

Ben reached out and took her hand. A frown creased his brow. 'We need a shovel too. I looked, but I didn't find one.'

A cry of frustration rose from the front of the truck, where Shinji had his head buried under the bonnet. They joined him at the front, Ben grimacing at the battered, gore-smeared grille. The bodywork was dented, and both headlight were smashed - Shinji had had to drive through or over several of the dead the night before. Now, he had the contents of the toolbox spread out at his feet, and he was tugging at a clump of bone and rotted flesh wedged between the fan belt and and cog.

'It can not go back, not go front,' he grunted, trying to rotate the belt. 'And it tear. I think it don't live long.'

The sun climbed higher as Shinji struggled to clear the engine of fragments of the bodies he'd hit in the panicked escape last night. Ben and Laney kept watch from the top of the cab, and Eric scrambled up to join them. After a number of hesitant false starts, the little boy spoke up.

'What's going to happen to Mum now? Will she know it's me?'

The adults exchanged a look over his head, Laney nodding at Ben.

'Eric, buddy,' Ben began, barely knowing what he could say to ease the little boy's pain. 'That won't happen to her, okay? It won't, I made sure. She's with your dad and your grandpa now.'

'Really?' Hope flashed across Eric's small features.

'Really,' Ben affirmed, warming to his task. 'And before she went, she made me promise to look after you.'

'Does that mean you're my dad now?'

'Uh... More like a big brother, I guess.'

'And friends,' Laney interjected.

'But Eric, that also means...' Ben began, only to be interrupted by the sound of the bonnet slamming shut. Shinji jumped up on the running board.

'Okay go,' he quipped. 'In, in, we go now.'

Piling into the cab, they waited expectantly as Shinji turned the key. The engine coughed into life. A nervous grin flashed across Shinji's face and the truck lurched forward. Laney leant out of the window and watched as the road to Haven disappeared behind them.

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Character Portrait: Allison Hartford
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Ally’s feet ached. She didn’t know how long she had been walking but what she did know was that she couldn’t stop, she couldn’t pause at all.

Every noise sent her heart racing, every muscle tightening and she even ran without really knowing if anything was there. She wasn’t willing to leave anything to chance.

The road before her seemed to go on for an eternity. Ally focused on it, even when it sometimes lulled her into a trance. She would shake herself awake,pinch her own arm...anything to get herself to wake up and concentrate. Danger could be anywhere and she had nothing to fend it off with.

Exhaustion would be her downfall, she knew that, unless she found shelter of some sort soon.

Ally was wary of moving too far off the road. The woods were just as unpredictable as anywhere but if she could find an old motel, home, any sort of structure close to the road she would feel better. The pavement, the winding road felt like her only escape. To what she didn’t know but somehow it made her feel better even when her rational mind told her the road made no difference at all.

She found herself wishing she could remember where that school was, the one she had gone to find supplies at. That thought of course just reminded her of the people she had run away from as they were being attacked.

Guilt gripped her. She had ran. She hadn’t even tried to help or looked back. Survival was first and foremost in her mind and it wasn’t helping people. Wasn’t that what doctors were supposed to do? Help?

Ally tried to make herself feel better by reminding herself over and over that the help that was needed was weapons and fighting. She didn’t have the first and she wasn’t particularly skilled at the second. She would have been useless.

That feeling, that thought bothered her more than the guilt. Her medical knowledge was nothing when it came down to it.

So she walked on.

When the sun came up the world seemed less scary. Only then did she stop and let her eyes close. Not for long. Noises startled her awake often but enough to feel like she could go on a little longer.

Ally realized that no food was going to be a problem. She could make it through most of today but if she didn’t find something soon the next few days would find her weaker and more likely to get sloppy.

Hunting wasn’t an option. Berries were not exactly plentiful so close to the road but she managed to find a few scraggly bushes close to the road’s edge. It wasn’t enough to make her full but it was enough to take the edge off.

Nothing, no buildings or signs for businesses appeared.

I went and picked the one stretch of road that has nothing...great job…

Ally walked on both praying for and dreading the possibility of finding people.

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View All » Add Character » 9 Characters to follow in this universe

Character Portrait: Shannon Finley
Character Portrait: Benjamin Kinney
Character Portrait: Allison Hartford
Character Portrait: Delaney Byron
Character Portrait: Eric Rand
Character Portrait: Shinji Yamada

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Character Portrait: Shinji Yamada
Shinji Yamada

Japanese tourist trying to prove himself

Character Portrait: Eric Rand
Eric Rand

The last one remaining from Upton

Character Portrait: Delaney Byron
Delaney Byron

Actress. Singer. Celebrity. Doesn't matter now.

Character Portrait: Allison Hartford
Allison Hartford

Med Student/Survivor

Character Portrait: Benjamin Kinney
Benjamin Kinney

The nine-fingered yank...

Character Portrait: Shannon Finley
Shannon Finley

Wandering Wild Man

Trending

Character Portrait: Shannon Finley
Shannon Finley

Wandering Wild Man

Character Portrait: Eric Rand
Eric Rand

The last one remaining from Upton

Character Portrait: Benjamin Kinney
Benjamin Kinney

The nine-fingered yank...

Character Portrait: Allison Hartford
Allison Hartford

Med Student/Survivor

Character Portrait: Shinji Yamada
Shinji Yamada

Japanese tourist trying to prove himself

Character Portrait: Delaney Byron
Delaney Byron

Actress. Singer. Celebrity. Doesn't matter now.

Most Followed

Character Portrait: Eric Rand
Eric Rand

The last one remaining from Upton

Character Portrait: Delaney Byron
Delaney Byron

Actress. Singer. Celebrity. Doesn't matter now.

Character Portrait: Shannon Finley
Shannon Finley

Wandering Wild Man

Character Portrait: Benjamin Kinney
Benjamin Kinney

The nine-fingered yank...

Character Portrait: Shinji Yamada
Shinji Yamada

Japanese tourist trying to prove himself

Character Portrait: Allison Hartford
Allison Hartford

Med Student/Survivor


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Most recent OOC posts in No Haven

Re: No Haven

Still here, though slow from the end of the year crap and holidays. I can't really do much till you others put something up so I can meet up with you :)

Re: No Haven

Well, I'm still around, even though I've been slightly busy over the holidays. I think others have been busier for longer, though, on account of the stoppage. I haven't given up, I've just been waiting for other people to give their input and such.

Re: No Haven

I've been watchin' from afar.

What's the matter guys?

"Come on fam," don't you wanna meet I can't tell you his name just yet.

Re: No Haven

Hey Northgaze,

You never know. I think we're still waiting on Hoodie. Let's see what happens when everyone's in their right mind after the holidays.

Re: No Haven

Well, hello...Gosh it's been quite a while. Post Christmas boredom called me here just today and I'm glad that it did. Too bad it wasn't sooner like early November. Lol.

Anyway, I think it's great that Haven will continue on and I see some familiar peeps and chars here! Awesome. Think there might be a spot for Luca still at this party? =)

Re: No Haven

Writepad keeps going down..google doc?

I am open to either.

Re: No Haven

We should get up and going again here soon. Should I set up a group WritePad for all of us to make it easier?

Re: No Haven

I am up to collab and plotting ahead. I can't post as I was the last one to but willing to chat about where to go from here. Sorry for the silence here. I am at the end of classes for this term so working on wrapping up reports and planning presentation for parents.

As a bonus I got pink eye and now tonsillitis.

So yeah other people's kids are awesome....

Re: No Haven

Come on fam, we can do it.

Maybe we need a plotting session, give us something to aim at.

Re: No Haven

Oh my goodness! And here I thought I'd be cursed for the rest of my days!

I haven't even had time to think of this site for the past week, but I'll have some time tomorrow evening to get something done. At least, I hope so.

Re: No Haven

Nice work, Skulls. Hopefully, we can get another post up and running pretty soon with Faith, Hoodie, and myself. The site's been a little fickle lately, I know, but we need not let that get us derailed.

In other news, I have way too many ideas for stories floating around in my head and not enough time nor am I ever really certain how to go about it; whether I should write them on my own, make it a roleplay, or just a simple collaboration.

Ah, the curse of a creative mind such as mine...

Re: No Haven

I will have a post up for Ally tomorrow now that the site seems to be working again. I am going to have her walking on along the road, sleeping very little, etc.

They can come upon her whenever or she upon them however it works.

Re: No Haven

However you want to do it, I'm okay with, Skulls. We can talk about it more when we're working on the post where she meets the others.

Faith Fanon wrote:Messiah's just being a gent.


Eh. I guess. I just don't want to take credit for too much of it when it was someone else (you, in this case) that wrote probably 2/3 to 3/4 of it.

Faith Fanon wrote:Plus, his bit is main the soul of the piece.


Maybe so, but it was still relatively complete without that piece (the dream sequence). I just got sudden inspiration for it last night, listening to a song. If not for that then that piece probably wouldn't even be in there.

Once everyone has gotten a chance to read it, I'd like to hear your thoughts, particularly where we go from here. I believe the next plot-advancing post will be the Havenites coming across Shannon, which will probably be another collab. And then they come across Allison, which could also be another collab. But, also, if either of you wanted to do additional solo posts between now and then, you're welcome to. I just want to hear what you all think.

Re: No Haven

True but Allison might not have run into them. She might be less worried once she finds out where they are from but until then fear and wariness are her friend.

Re: No Haven

Messiah's just being a gent. I don't care about word counts.

Plus, his bit is main the soul of the piece.

Re: No Haven

Our post is up. Like I said before and in the post itself, Faith did most of the work.

Skulls, it's possible that Allison and the remaining Havenites are familiar with each other, even if it's just a little bit. There were intersecting missions between the two groups, so it's a possibility.

Re: No Haven

Figured a collab was in the works :)

I was thinking they could either come upon her on the road or at whatever location they happen to all arrive at.

Really all I see at this moment is she is going to be scared, slightly freaked out and clinging to her backpack loaded with first aid supplies. She is going to be wary of people for fear they might kill her for what she has and she will likely lie about what is in there at first. She knows that the supplies are more valuable than a mouth to feed.

Re: No Haven

Sssaall good, I've been pretty busy with work myself. Long hours now :p

Re: No Haven

Apologies for the delay. Faith and I are currently working on a collab post, hopefully bridging up our eventual meet-ups a little bit better. My brain's just been a little... uncooperative the last few days, and most of our upcoming post is Faith's work. Hoodie, I've already spoken with you regarding your character meeting up with ours, but I wanted to ask Skulls for her input.

So, Skulls... How did you see the meeting proceeding for your character? Obviously, you're going to have to see our next post to judge better, but I was curious how you felt at this moment in time. I know you said you were going to fit it in to what we wrote, but I wanted to get your thoughts.

In the meantime, have this. It's become massively popular in the last week or two, and most people either love it or hate it. Decide for yourself! That is, if you haven't seen it already.

(I happen to be more in the "love it" crowd.)

http://youtu.be/QrGrOK8oZG8

Re: No Haven

Thanks! I look forward to more posts and some collaborations.

Good starting posts all around, very enjoyable reads :)